


Surfer Moon

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Category: Action!, The Sentinel
Genre: Almost Doesn't Count Crossover, First Time, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Post-Series, Surfing, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim drags Blair down to Malibu for some sun, surfing and surprises.  But it's Jim who gets the real surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surfer Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very slight crossover with the TV show, Action, based solely on occasional mention of the resemblance between Jim Ellison and Cole Riccardi. It was originally written for My Mongoose in April, 2004, and three members of the staff had a birthday that month and so I cast them as 'the ladies on the beach' as a birthday present. I'd like to thank WoD, Rawly and Fletcher for betaing this into a much better story. Sam drew me two lovely pictures, which you can see [here](http://carodee.popullus.net/site.php?c=SurferMoon.html) on my website.

_There’s a moon in the sky somewhere I know  
Waiting for all the love to burn below  
If you fall and it happens all too soon  
Blame it all on the surfer moon_

 _\- Brian Wilson, The Surfer Moon_

Jim chose his wave while it was still a ways out and waited for it, enjoying the sun on his back and the sound of the waves lapping against his legs. As it neared, he lay down and began paddling fiercely towards shore. The moment he felt the lift, he smoothly popped up into his stance. The board soared beneath his feet and he knew this was going to be a decent ride.

Feet gripping the board, shifting minutely to respond to the movements of the wave, Jim was pleased to see his healed leg was holding up. It had taken some time to compensate for the slight weakness in his right leg, but it was time well spent to get out on the water again.

He loved the feeling of flying, riding the board over the water, knowing that one wrong move would send him plunging into the churning ocean, disoriented and hoping his board wouldn't crash into him. You never controlled the power of the ocean, you only borrowed it for a short ride and then the ocean took it back. But what a ride!

Teeth bared in an exhilarated grin, feeling totally alive, Jim shifted his weight in a cutback and sent the board veering beautifully towards the right. He might have lost some skill as he got older but with his Sentinel senses he could read the wave better than ever.

The wave broke, tossing Jim off into the white water. Jim felt the sandy floor beneath his feet and pushed, bursting up in a spray of salt water and good humor. Spotting his board bobbing about ten feet away, he pushed his way through the water and climbed back on.

Automatically scanning the area for his guide, he verified that Blair was still sitting there on the beach, head raised from his book, watching him surf. Jim zeroed in and saw that Blair was smiling; the tension lines around his eyes that he'd had when Jim had first started surfing had disappeared.

'This was a great idea,' Jim congratulated himself, waving at Blair and turning to paddle back out. Blair was tanned and relaxed, and the haunted look was gone. Not that Blair didn't have a right to feel like shit since his life blew up around him.

* * *

Jim had hated that look. It made him feel helpless and angry and guilty. Living with Blair after the press conference had not been fun and Jim had stoically endured it as his penance. But finally enough was enough. His leg was healed and it was a couple months until the next semester started at the Police Academy and Blair was doing jack shit except for what he called processing and Jim called moping.

It was during a dinner conversation with his dad that he got the idea. One of William Ellison's colleagues had just returned from vacation and raved about the fantastic time he'd had with his new girlfriend at the beach house they'd rented in Malibu. Hot tubs and private beaches and movie stars.

Jim wasn't particularly interested in the movie stars but it occurred to him that everyone else was. In Malibu, no one would know who the hell Ellison and Sandburg were. They weren't in the business and so they were nobodies. Jim thought it would probably do Blair a lot of good to be a nobody again.

He made some inquiries and found a rental on a private beach that supposedly had good surfing. It was expensive as hell, but his dad was willing to help out for Blair's sake. Jim and William Ellison had never gotten along so well.

He arranged a leave of absence and packed up their clothes and his old surfboard, dragging a sullen, depressed Blair along with him. The further they'd gotten away from Cascade though, the more Blair took an interest in his surroundings, until finally he was, if not the old Blair, at least smiling and talking Jim's ear off. Secretly relieved, Jim laughed and asked questions and listened all the way down the coast.

* * *

Powerful strokes of his arms sent the surfboard flying through the water. The strain and burn of muscles pushing a heavy weight against the current was a good, familiar feeling. Seeing a larger wave just in front of him, Jim grabbed the rail of the surfboard and pushed down, allowing the wave to sweep over him. Eyes slit against the stinging of the seawater, he enjoyed the underwater view of the sea bed obscured by bubbles swirling all around him. Then the wave was past and he leveled out again.

* * *

The private beach was the first thing Jim checked out. The curve of the shoreline meant the waves were milder than he would have preferred but he could live with that. Maybe in a couple of weeks Blair would be up to a little safari to find the perfect wave.

The rental turned out to be small but lavishly furnished. The hot tub was especially appreciated by Blair who took one look, declared eternal love and devotion, and permanently abandoned flannel and jeans for swim trunks. Jim had grinned and spent that first day climbing in and out of the hot tub and trotting back and forth to the kitchen, playing waiter for a boneless and blissed-out guide who nevertheless had just enough energy to lift up his glass for refills.

After two days, Blair's devotion had faded enough that he was willing to spend a couple hours away from his beloved. They'd gone out sightseeing, doing the Hollywood bit, visiting museums, walking the public beaches and ogling the California beach beauties.

Jim's hope that they'd be anonymous faces in a crowd had died a quick death. People were generally well-behaved in the restaurants and museums, but everywhere else Jim was constantly being ambushed by adoring fans begging for his autograph. Apparently what he'd thought was just a slight resemblance to Cole Riccardi, the movie star, was stronger than he'd realized. Trying to explain he wasn't the actor got such hostile reactions that Jim ended up giving the autographs and hoping no one tried to sell the things on eBay. One guy had looked him over carefully and handed him a business card for a celebrity impersonators agency.

Blair thought it was hilarious and didn't seem to mind the knowing stares sent his way. Jim was torn between annoyance that people thought Blair would ever be Cole's boy toy and smug pride that Blair belonged to him. Well, in a partner and guide sense, anyway.

After that, they pretty much hung out at the beach house. Jim got back into surfing, learning to compensate for the slight weakness in his leg. Blair lay on the sand, reading and soaking up the sun with cat-like determination. They walked up and down the private beach and played Frisbee, cooked fancy meals together or Blair would go out and bring back authentic Mexican food that both declared far superior to anything Cascade could offer.

They talked long into the night about everything, including one night when they both got drunk and Blair finally opened up about how much it hurt losing his life at Rainier. Jim got the chance to haltingly express his gratitude and how much he wished things had turned out differently. It wasn't so much that anything new got said, but that they were both drunkenly sincere and maudlin. Despite the hangover and unspoken, mutual agreement to never refer to that night again, both men felt much more comfortable with each other after that.

Slowly, they were healing their friendship until they were back to something approaching the pre-Alex days.

* * *

Jim leaned back on his board and waited, enjoying the swell of the smaller waves as they lifted the surfboard. After a long afternoon of surfing, he was willing to wait out the mushy waves until a larger one came along. For right now, sitting here -- smelling the salt air, hearing the seagulls, watching Blair roast in the sun -- was a pleasant enough occupation. Jim's mind drifted, wandering to last night....

* * *

They were still sitting at the table, surrounded by the remains of their dinner, and arguing about the history of modern surfing and its phenomenal growth in the last half of the twentieth century. Jim thought it was the direct experience being passed on from mentor to protege and Blair argued that pop culture with its image of 'cool' -- specifically rock music and the beach movies of the sixties -- accounted for the explosion. Jim pointed out that no one would surf if the experience itself wasn't so incredible. Blair had cracked up and said, "Dude, it like totally gets the babes!"

Talking non-stop as he built his argument, he'd jumped up and put a bunch of CDs in the sound system. Jim laughed as he recognized the Beach Boys. Blair was bopping around the living room, whipping his hair back and forth as he danced, reminding Jim of the first time he saw Blair at Rainier. "Come on, Jim. You can't just sit there. This is the fucking Beach Boys, man!"

Delighted with Blair's exuberance, Jim allowed himself to be coaxed and they'd spent an hour dancing like crazy men around the living room, goofing and laughing, while the sun set through the picture window and the room got darker. Finally, they stopped, chests heaving and grinning at each other in the dimness. It felt like there was something there -- an electricity -- a sense of something important about to happen. Jim stopped breathing. All he could think was, _'Now. Now now now,'_ and he had no idea what he meant. So he stood there frozen, feeling slightly ridiculous.

The moment stretched out, the two men staring at each other. Then Blair broke the silence. "Whoa, too much wine. But those Beach Boys rock. Classic Americana."

Feeling vaguely disappointed, Jim had turned on the lights and they'd gone about cleaning the dinner dishes, while the electricity quietly faded away.

* * *

The late afternoon sun gleamed off the rolling waves. The flashes of light couldn't be looked at directly, but if he caught it at the corner of his eye, it kept the possibility of zoning away. The slow, rhythmic rocking and the pleasant exhaustion of his body reminded him of last night and that made him search out Blair, idly watching him. Blair was bent over a book and Jim zoomed in on the shadowed cave formed by his hair falling forward. He watched Blair chew his lower lip and he remembered the strange electricity of the night before.

A seagull shrieked and Jim's attention was caught, following the gliding flight of the bird until it was out of sight. A connection formed in his mind between flying, surfing, dancing, and Blair. Suddenly it occurred to him that what Blair needed was to get off his ass and learn how to surf.

* * *

Blair didn't happen to agree. "No way."

"Come on, Chief."

"You forgotten that I drowned not too long ago? I'm not real happy with the idea of deliberately immersing myself in water that's way over my head," Blair pointed out as his heart rate and perspiration increased.

For a moment Jim's heart contracted. Then he took a deep breath. "That's why you should do it, Sandburg. Surfing... it's not like swimming. Once you get the hang of it, it's like you use the water, you have control. You always respect the ocean and acknowledge the danger, but when you know that and you work with it, not against it, then you can ride it. It frees you. There's nothing else like it."

Blair looked at him steadily, one corner of his mouth quirking.

Jim mock-glared and then reluctantly smiled. "Okay, okay. I get it. It's like the senses, too. Although...," the thought suddenly occurred to him, "...you know, the guide is more like the surfboard. You're what keeps me above the water. With you, I ride the waves; without you, it rides me."

Blair burst out laughing. With a whoop, he fell backwards onto the sand and lay there shaking until he was reduced to giggles. "I am the wind beneath your wings..." he warbled off-key and started laughing all over again.

Jim grinned broadly. It was good to see Blair happy. Of course, that didn't stop him from administering retribution. It was his turn to laugh as Blair twisted around, swearing revenge as he tried to shake the sand out of his trunks.

Finally, Blair rolled back up into a sitting position and rubbed at the tears of laughter streaming down his face. "Hoo boy, I needed that. Jim, my man, that was... something all right, but you gotta promise me one thing." Blair chortled, "Don't quit your day job. You are _not_ a poet."

Jim winced as Blair's words brought back the image of a pale, stricken Blair bringing home boxes of stuff from his former office at the university.

Blair pointed his finger at him, sternly. "No. Don't you even start with that shit, man. We are here to have a good time." Blair sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It's done, Jim. It's done and nothing's going to change that. Okay, so I wasn't handling it real well. I admit it. But this trip has really shown me that life is still sweet. Whatever else I've lost, I haven't lost your friendship and that's the most important thing. I've accepted it. Now it's time to move on. Detach with love."

Jim blinked at Blair with alarm, adrenaline racing through his body. Blair smiled sadly. "You still don't trust me, do you? You still think I'm leaving. What do I have to do to prove myself to Jim Ellison's satisfaction? I'm here, I'm your partner, I'm staying. Deal with it."

"I'm sorry, Blair." And he was. He kept doing this shit and it hurt Blair. "It's just that... you're such a big part of my life. If you were gone, it would be like having an arm or a leg ripped off."

Blair pulled his knees up and crossed his arms over them, smiling gently. "You think it isn't like that for me too?"

The two men sat there, looking at each other, a faint echo of the electricity from last night sparking between them.

Finally it was Jim who broke the silence. "So, you up for a little surfing lesson? You know? Come on in, the water's fine?"

Blair stared at Jim, face inscrutable, and then he shrugged. "Why not? I need to face my fear some time."

Jim stood and reached out to pull Blair up. Blair did a little jig to get the rest of the sand out of his trunks, while Jim bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I can see why all the babes go for you, Chief. It's that air of sophistication."

Blair made a face at Jim. "The babes go for me because I'm smart and I'm fun. They know I'm going to make sure they have a good time. While you, Jim," Blair said sadly, "will just have to hope they're blinded by your muscles."

"That generally works pretty well for me," Jim agreed.

"Well, it _is_ a lot of muscle," Blair conceded generously.

Jim struck a couple muscleman poses, grinning as Blair hooted with laughter. Once you got Blair talking and laughing, he tended to forget he was nervous. Feeling pretty pleased with himself, Jim thought of something else that might help.

"Wait here a second, Sandburg. I'll be right back." Jim ran up the beach to the deck of the house, where he'd left the bag with his surfing supplies. Rummaging through the contents, he found what he was looking for, grabbed it, and ran back down. "Okay, ready to start surfing?"

"Sure," said Blair cheerfully, his heart beating faster.

Jim reached out and tousled his hair. "I'm going to be right there the whole time. I won't let anything happen to you."

Blair ducked out of his reach and jogged down to the water, his heart rate already a little calmer. Following behind with the surfboard, Jim found himself touched that Blair still trusted him that much.

The two men waded out to about waist-deep on Blair. Jim patted the surfboard. "Okay, Chief. Hop on and lay on your stomach. We're going to practice paddling first."

Jim braced the board as Blair climbed on awkwardly. Then he waded around to the back and attached the leash to the surfboard as Blair twisted around to watch. Jim held up the loose end and explained, "This is a leash. I'm going to put it around your ankle. Now if you fall off the board and you're disoriented, you can just grab the leash and pull the board back towards you, okay?" He snapped it around Blair's closest ankle. "Normally, it would go around whichever foot was the back leg of your stance. But we don't know yet whether your stance is regular or goofy foot. It won't matter today because you're not going to be standing up. We can figure it out tomorrow." He smirked. "I'm betting you're a goofy foot, Sandburg."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Oh, and I'm sure you're regular, Jim. Like being left-handed or left-footed is a crime. That's just a cultural superstition."

"Just goes to show what you know, Kahuna. Goofy foot is leading with the right foot instead of the left."

Blair blinked at that with mild surprise and Jim took advantage of the momentary silence to start explaining how to paddle. Then he had Blair practice it parallel to the beach until he could move over the water at a fairly decent clip.

"Okay, now let's head out to the line-up. That's where you wait to catch a wave. Move up just a bit, spread your legs, and hang on to the board." Jim turned the board until it was pointed out to sea and waited for Blair to move into position. He climbed on the board and knelt behind Blair. A little shifting back and forth to figure out where the balance was with two people on board and then he told Blair to start paddling.

"We'll be a little sluggish with the extra weight but that's good. Build up those pecs, right, Chief?" Jim grinned as Blair silently gave Jim the finger and doggedly started to paddle.

When they'd gotten far enough out, Jim stopped Blair and had him move into a seated position. He gratefully eased off his knees and sat behind Blair. Together they maneuvered the board around until they were facing the shore. Jim began explaining how the waves worked, how to choose the right one and how to catch the wave. Blair asked a lot of questions and Jim found himself trying to put into words things that he knew from experience and hadn't ever really thought about.

At some point, Jim realized all the questions were just a delaying tactic and that Blair was really tense. Still talking, he reached out and began massaging Blair's neck and shoulders, digging in whenever he found a knot. The stress relief combined with the relatively mild rocking soon had Blair purring. Jim found it pretty soothing himself -- the gentle movement, the warmth of the late afternoon sun, the rhythmic kneading and stroking of Blair's skin -- he'd almost fallen into a hypnotic daze when he realized that it was getting late and they were losing the light.

He gave one last squeeze to Blair's shoulders and regretfully said, "Time's running out on us, buddy. Let's get your ride in while we still can."

He heard Blair gulp as he said, breathlessly, "Okay. What do I do?"

"Let me just slide off here and you can lie down." Jim slipped off the side and treaded water.

Blair turned around, alarmed. "You said you'd stay with me, man!"

"I'll be swimming right behind you," Jim assured him. "If something happens, I won't be more than ten seconds behind you. I promise."

Blair continued staring at him, eyes wide. Jim swam closer and reached for the side of the surfboard. "It's going to be fine, Blair. You're just going to lie on the board and let the wave carry you. No standing up. If you keep your weight balanced right, the board won't flip. If that does happen, just keep a grip on the board and you'll float to the surface. If you lose the board, that's what the leash is for. Ten seconds and I'll catch up."

Jim looked up at Blair staring dubiously at him. A slight shift of the board and suddenly Blair was completely backlit by the setting sun. Jim blinked as each strand of Blair's wild, wind-blown hair was lit up as if on fire, a gorgeous reddish halo framing the shadowed lines of his face. It was as if he were smacked in the face with how beautiful Blair was. 'God, I love you,' he thought, stunned.

"Jim? Jim!"

"Huh?"

"What do I do now?"

Jim wrenched his attention back and realized that Blair had moved into a prone position and was waiting for instructions. "Uh, yeah. Okay." He searched the oncoming waves, unable to meet Blair's eyes. "Okay, I see your wave. When I tell you, start paddling as fast as you can and when you feel the wave lift you, stop paddling and hold on to the board." He pinned his gaze on the wave with single-minded concentration. As it got closer, he moved away to give Blair room. "Now!"

Blair began paddling wildly. The wave caught up, lifted him and Blair grabbed the board, yelling, "Jiiiiiim!" at the top of his lungs.

Jim automatically treaded water, completely forgetting his promise to follow Blair in. He floated, mind almost a blank, watching his yelling, whooping roommate as he glided towards the shore in his first, wobbling beginner's run. 'What the hell just happened here?' he thought dazedly.

The board slid into the sand and Blair was off, jumping triumphantly around in the shallows, yelling, "Yes! Yes! I did it! Wow, what a rush!" He turned and stared straight at Jim and said, "Did you see me, Jim? I did it!"

Jim's sight zoomed in on that eager, joyful face and it felt like a blow to his heart. Shock or no shock, this was a done deal. He was in love with Blair Sandburg. Now what? He'd never... He didn't know... _Shit!_

On the beach, Blair suddenly realized that Jim was still floating out there instead of swimming ashore. His entire posture tensed. "Jim, are you okay? Shit, are you zoned? Damn, damn, damn. Just hold on. I'm coming." Grim-faced, Blair grabbed the surfboard, ran into the water, and began paddling furiously, keeping up a running monologue.

Jim watched his guide forget his own fears to come running to his rescue. And didn't _that_ pretty much sum up the history of their friendship? Deep down, Jim was sure he didn't deserve that kind of loyalty, but he was grateful that Blair thought differently. That had to be some kind of love, didn't it? Although remembering last night, he was reasonably certain now that Blair was at least attracted to him. Clueless bastard that he was.

"Jim!" Blair was almost on top of him. Jim reached out and grabbed the board to keep him from overshooting. "Jim! Oh, hey. You're not zoned... What the hell were you doing? You scared the bejeezus out of me, man! My heart's going a mile a minute here!"

"Sorry, Sandburg," Jim said, staring up hungrily at Blair. "I was thinking of something and got distracted."

Blair narrowed his eyes in annoyance and opened his mouth. Then he noticed the look Jim was giving him and his face grew guarded. They stared at each other a moment, then Blair looked away.

"Oh, wow!" Blair's attention was caught by the setting sun and the golden glow glittering off the waves. "Look, Jim."

Jim was more interested in the look of deep appreciation on Blair's face as he watched the sky. Blair looked down at him and smiled. "Get up here, man. Enjoy the scenery."

Blair slid forward and Jim pushed up against the board and straddled it behind him. No need for Blair to know that he'd rather watch him than some sunset. Jim's eyes were riveted on the damp curls falling over those broad shoulders and he wondered vaguely what Blair's skin tasted like.

They sat on the surfboard beyond the line-up and silently watched as the clouds lit up, first a rosy peach, deepening through orange into a fierce red. Then as the sun sank below the water, the colors changed to a cool turquoise/lavender and a thin slice of the new moon began to be visible in the deepening darkness of the sky. And still they sat there, the waves lapping over their legs and rhythmically lifting and dropping them.

And because it was magical and somehow outside the real world, Jim found his courage. He reached out and touched the back of Blair's neck. Beneath his hand, Blair became absolutely still. Heart hammering, Jim moved his hand in an unmistakable caress through the soft, downy hairs at Blair's neck and traced down the line of Blair's spine until his hand rested on one hip. Then he waited to find out his future.

For long seconds, Blair just sat there, and Jim's heart sank. Then Blair sighed softly and leaned back into Jim. Jim's arms went around him and tightened, relief and happiness singing through him. He rubbed his cheek against the wind-tossed, salt-wet hair and whispered, "Blair."

Blair rested his head back against Jim's shoulder and looked up. It was an awkward angle, but Jim twisted his neck enough to drop a kiss on his mouth. Blair shifted and turned his upper body, mouth opening to deepen the kiss. Jim moved with him and then, like a key turning in a lock, they slid together into a perfect fit.

Blair's mouth was warm and tasted of salt and sunscreen and plain Blair. There was an urgency to the way his lips moved against Jim's, tongue caressing Jim's tongue, and the sentinel shivered at the sensations, groaning happily into Blair's mouth.

Blair broke off the kiss and awkwardly began turning around on the board. Jim steadied it against the movements as best he could. For a moment, their knees banged together, then Blair swung his legs over Jim's and Jim hitched in closer until their torsos were touching.

The dusk had deepened into night during their kiss and perhaps Blair had forgotten Sentinel sight could still see in the dark. Jim caught his breath at the frightened vulnerability in Blair's eyes and the desperation in the grip of his hands. Blair loved him and he was afraid.

Jim pressed his forehead against Blair's. How long had Blair loved him like this? Long before the press conference, he was suddenly sure. Before Alex? Probably, and the sight of Jim kissing his killer must have been a knife to his heart. Not to mention Veronica, he realized. 'No more,' Jim decided. 'I'm not hurting him again.'

"Love you, Blair," he whispered in the dark. "Love you so much."

Blair gasped and pulled his head back, trying to stare through the dark to see Jim's face. Jim wanted to reassure him, wipe that questioning look away, so he cupped Blair's face softly and leaned in to kiss to him again.

Blair moaned into the kiss and his hands came up to touch Jim's chest hesitantly. Jim caught one hand, kissed it and placed it back on his chest. Given permission, Blair's hands began to roam freely, sliding over Jim's skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and circling his nipples. Jim shivered happily and returned the favor, running his fingers through Blair's chest hair curiously. Feeling bolder, he teased a nipple, smiling when Blair shuddered and hissed, "Yes."

Sitting there surrounded by the beautiful ocean and the night, touching Blair and trading slow kisses, Jim took in the feel and taste and smell of Blair in full arousal and realized to his relief that he was getting hard. The last little part of him that worried that he wouldn't be able to love Blair because he was a man left him. The throbbing of his cock reassured him that this was going to happen, that this was going to be perfect.

"Lean back, Blair," Jim whispered.

Blair moaned and lay back on the surfboard. His hair spilled around him, caught by the waves that slopped over the side. His hands gripped the rail tightly, but he stared blindly up at the sky, his expression a mix of trust and fear.

Jim smoothed his hands over Blair's chest and down to his groin. He could feel that hard, hot length of Blair's cock beneath the suit and he caressed it gently, smiling when Blair hissed and jerked upwards.

The trunks were definitely in the way. Jim tugged gently at the waistband and waited for permission. Blair cooperatively lifted his butt and then his legs as Jim drew the suit up and off, handing it up to Blair.

Then he was staring down at Blair's cock. It looked different from his -- thicker, sturdy like Blair, darker skin tone. Hesitantly, Jim stroked a finger down its length and it twitched eagerly in response. Jim threw a quick glance up at Blair's face and was reassured by the look of pleasure. He took a firm grip and stroked down. Despite the difference in thickness, the movement of the loose skin over warm textured muscle was reassuringly familiar. He repeated the stroke, grinning as Blair moaned, and then it was okay. He began a rhythmic pumping, enjoying the feel of it in his hand, and watched Blair's face greedily.

Blair's eyes were shut now and he was biting his lip. He lifted his hips to meet Jim's strokes, breath panting in the same rhythm. The smell of his arousal drifted up to fill Jim's nostrils, more intense than the smell of the sea. The throbbing in his cock grew more urgent and his hand drifted to it, rubbing through the cloth.

Finding that unsatisfying, Jim pushed back and slipped off the board. His move caused the surfboard to swing from side-to-side into the water and Blair fearfully cried out, "Jim!"

Caught with his swimsuit half-way down his thighs, Jim moved hand over hand up the board to Blair's head. "Shh, shh. It's okay, Blair. It's okay. I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you." He continued murmuring reassurance until Blair's heartbeat calmed.

"Sorry, Jim," Blair turned his head towards where Jim bobbed in the sea. "It's just... it's dark and I can't really see."

"Do you want to go ashore?" Jim offered.

"No!" Blair said vehemently. "No, Jim, I want to finish what we started here. If we go ashore... I want this."

Jim reached out a hand to touch Blair's face. "I want it too, Blair."

Blair's face lit up. "Then get back up on this board, man."

Jim hurriedly kicked the suit off, not caring that it drifted away. "Coming up," he warned, and heaved himself up and over. The board sank for a moment with the sudden addition of his weight and then adjusted. Blair's heart rate rose and his hands held onto the sides of the board, but he didn't make a sound.

Jim savored the feel of Blair beneath him for a moment and bent down to kiss him. Blair's mouth was warm and eager and this was so, so good. He rocked his hips into Blair and gasped at the sensation. "Oh God, Blair."

Unfortunately the board needed more distribution of weight and, with a regretful sigh, Jim slid back into a seated position again. Blair brought his legs up and wrapped them around Jim's waist. Jim stroked his thighs affectionately and Blair grinned and tightened his grip.

Jim curled his hand around Blair's cock again, pulling slowly to the swaying rhythm of the sea. Blair's thighs fell open and Jim's eyes dropped to the shadowed sacks below his cock. A tentative touch, skin soft and velvety, and Jim ran his fingertips over it, enjoying the texture. He reached for his own cock and rubbed the head gently along Blair's balls.

Blair moaned quietly, then said, "Jim, dial up a little. Let yourself enjoy it."

A frisson of excitement ran through Jim and he dialed up slowly. The suede-soft sensation grew stronger, more exquisite. Jim began panting in quick, sharp bursts and then his hand slipped and his cock slid down to press against Blair's asshole.

Both men froze.

Then Blair sighed and said, "Yes. Oh yes, Jim."

Jim gaped at him, his gut clenching with excitement. Oh God, inside Blair. Hell, yes! But... "Can't. We don't have anything."

Blair muttered, "Shit." Then, "Wait, wait. Here, Jim." Blair fumbled at the swimsuit still clutched in one hand. Jim heard a zipper and then a small tube was handed up to him.

"What is it?" he asked, opening it up and sniffing. "Vaseline?"

"Hey, the sun dries my skin and I get chapped lips, okay? It'll work."

Jim grunted with annoyance. "Yeah, if I can ever get it out." He pressed hard and frowned at the minute amount oozing from the tip.

"Depends on how much you want it, man." Blair snickered and dug the heel of one foot into Jim's hip.

"Oh, I want it all right, Chief," Jim assured him, feeling desire husk his voice, and squeezed harder. Finally, he had an adequate dollop on his fingers.

Jim had had anal sex a couple of times before, so he knew to slick and loosen the muscle a little. But whereas Carolyn and Jessica had been tense, Blair was open to his fingers. 'He's done this before,' Jim realized and a sharp, hard pang of jealousy hit him in the gut. But then Blair gasped out his name with such longing, that it didn't matter one bit because he couldn't take his eyes off the look on Blair's face as he pushed up against Jim's hand. All that mattered was that he get inside Blair and stay there. Hoarsely cursing the damned tube of Vaseline, he finally squeezed out enough to coat himself and pressed the tip of his cock up against the ring of muscle, Blair chanting, "yes, yes, yes," as he slid right on in.

Heat. With the sun gone, the temperature was dropping and Blair's skin was chilled. But Blair's core was hot and tight around his cock and Jim groaned as Blair's muscles gripped him. He pulled half out and thrust back in. " _Fuck,_ Blair. You feel so good!"

Blair lifted to meet Jim's thrust. "You too. Ohhh... yeah."

The angle wasn't quite right. Jim leaned forward, hands gripping the sides of the board, and swung up a little. Oh yeah, that was better. Arms straining, he held himself up off the board and swung his hips, plunging into Blair. The changed angle worked for Blair too, as he threw his head back and cried out.

"Did you hear that, Patty?"

"Yeah, what was that?"

Hips still pumping, Jim looked around wildly. He knew voices carried clearly over the water and he half-expected to see a nearby boat. They were alone out here though; the voices came from shore. He could see three women sitting out on the deck a couple houses down from theirs. They were clutching wine glasses and squinting out to sea. Shit!

It was dark enough that he knew they couldn't see anything, but he hoped to God Blair hadn't heard them, because Blair was moaning and writhing under him and it felt so _fucking_ good. Nothing short of Blair telling him to stop would make him pull out.

"Oh my God, I think somebody's out there and they're _doing_ it!"

A burst of high-pitched laughter and one of them said enviously, "Lucky them." The sound of clinked glasses and then they lowered their voices and began wildly speculating about the mysterious lovers at sea.

Jim turned down his hearing and dismissed them. Blair couldn't hear them and, as far as he was concerned, they weren't even there. Blair released his desperate clutch of the board and slid his hands up to rest on Jim's. Each thrust of Jim's cock caused Blair's inner muscles to contract and force out an ecstatic groan. Watching the pleasure surge over Blair's face was almost as exciting as the incredible feeling of fucking him.

Because this was good. This was good. So very good. His cock was alive and throbbing and sending the most intense jolts of pleasure rushing through him. He was soaring, his senses expanding outward, outward, until he felt the currents for miles around, felt the waves change, heard the rhythmic pounding, the wind sweeping over the water, over his skin, lifting the damp curls of Blair's hair, waves lifting him up and dropping him back down into Blair. He was the sky and the ocean and the movement and all of it, every part of it, was zeroed in on Blair, this infinitesimal creature floating like a piece of driftwood on the surface of the sea. He was surfing over the ocean, free, and driving towards shore, the wave growing and swelling below him. He wanted to fly forever but it never lasted that long, never ever. But, oh God, he was flying now.

Then the wave peaked -- he heard Blair cry out in ecstasy and orgasm, his channel clenching and fluttering around Jim's cock -- the wave broke and Jim fell right into the white water, tossed and tumbled in the churn of his pleasure. Long exquisite moments of being caught in loss of control, gripped by something more powerful than himself.

When he came back to himself, he was collapsed over Blair, chest heaving and throat sore from yelling. Blair gripped the board with one hand, but the other gently held Jim's head against his chest, the pounding heartbeat soothing and anchoring.

Jim pushed up, sighing with loss as he slipped out, and bent to kiss Blair. Blair's lips were stiff beneath his. Jim was about to ask when Blair started shivering and Jim reluctantly realized it was time to head in. He began paddling the board with arms that felt like limp noodles. It took forever before the board was in the shallows and he could slip off. He untied the leash and helped Blair down, running his hand over Blair's torso and his own to rinse the spunk off.

Carrying the board took two hands and he climbed the sandy beach with Blair walking stiffly next to him, subtly drifting away. Jim looked over in concern. Something wasn't right with Blair.

A high-pitched squeal assaulted his eardrums. Jim winced and realized he'd forgotten their peeping toms and that both he and Blair were stark naked. Blair looked over and casually waved like a friendly neighbor. Beach nudity wasn't a new thing to him.

All three women were staring at Jim, mouths open. Jim nodded as he padded up the stairs and propped the board against the side of the house.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Anne, is that who I think that is?"

"You mean, is that Cole Riccardi walking past us stark naked? Because that's what I'm seeing and I swear I'm never washing these eyes again."

"Hallelujah! I've been blinded by the glory."

"Where's my camera? Nat, where's my camera?!"

"Sorry, hon. Too late."

Jim grinned as a long, heart-felt "Daaaaamn!" floated through the night air.

Entering the house and closing the door behind them was like leaving their safe place and what they'd just shared behind and coming back into the real world again. With a frown, Jim noticed Blair wouldn't meet his eyes. "Blair?"

Blair looked up and Jim saw that he was still afraid. That Blair didn't trust that this was real, that it would last. "I'm tired, Jim. I think I'll go to bed now."

"No. Something's wrong. Tell me."

"I'm really tired. Can't this wait until morning?"

"I guess so." Jim said reluctantly, and frowned as he watched his lover walk towards his bedroom. "Blair?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are you going?"

Blair rolled his eyes and gestured at his door. "To bed."

"Well, why don't you come sleep in my bed?" Jim smiled invitingly. The thought of lying next to Blair all night long, surrounded by his warmth and scent, was pretty enticing.

He was disappointed but not exactly surprised when Blair's reaction wasn't what he was hoping for. Blair frowned, obviously steeling himself, and took a deep breath. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Ah. Here it comes, whatever the problem is. Jim braced himself and asked, "Why not?"

Blair stood there for minute, chewing his lip as he thought about what he was going to say. "Have you ever done this before?"

Jim blinked in surprise. _That_ was the problem? Jim grinned, hoping to disarm the tension with humor. "Why, was I that bad?"

Blair just looked at him. "You were fantastic and you know it. Just answer the question."

"Of course, I've done it before. You think I'm just a missionary position kind of guy?"

"Well, I guess that's my answer."

"Blair, what's the matter?"

"That was your first time with a man," Blair said, his voice flat and certain.

"It sure wasn't your first time though, was it, Chief?" The jealousy that he'd felt earlier came back full force and his voice had a real edge to it.

Blair smiled grimly. "You have a problem with that, do you?"

Shit! Control, Ellison. Jim took a deep breath. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"That I was bi?" Blair smiled humorlessly. "At first, it wasn't any of your business. Then later on, I thought it might put a strain on our friendship."

"You thought I was some homophobic asshole?" Jim asked, surprised and hurt.

Blair's eyes softened for a moment. "No, Jim. But considering your upbringing and your choice of careers, I thought you'd be more than a little uncomfortable to have a queer living with you, looking at you and touching you."

Jim stared at Blair, jaw muscle twitching. "You're my closest friend, Blair. I trust your integrity."

"And you're mine, Jim. But things change and there are all sorts of reasons why friendships don't work out."

"So you weren't ever going to tell me that you're in love with me?"

Blair stiffened. "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. I can see it in your eyes. I could feel it in your body when I was..."

"Say it, Jim. When you were fucking me."

"No! When we were making love. Dammit, Blair." Jim reached out for Blair, who startled and stepped back. Jim blurted out, "If you don't think it's going to work, why did we just have sex?"

Blair managed to look miserable, stubborn and guilty all at once. "Because I'm an idiot. Because I wanted it so much. You have no idea. I wanted to be with you just once. So that I'd have something to remember."

"So that's it? You're willing to settle for a one-night stand? You're not even going to try?" Disappointed and hurt, Jim retreated into anger. Disgusted, he turned to head out the door before he said or did something he'd regret later. Then he remembered he was naked and in no mood to face the female gauntlet outside.

"See what I mean, Jim? A little setback and you're already gone," Blair said sharply, with an air of vindication.

Jim whirled around and yelled, "No! Don't you put that on me. I'm the one here who's willing to try. _You're_ the one giving up before we even get started. Maybe you're the one who's afraid to love a man, huh? You ever think about that, Mr. 'Detach With Love'?"

Blair threw up his hands. "Whatever you say, man. I'm the bad guy here. I'm going to bed now." He turned, walked into his room and closed the door.

Jim stood there, breathing hard, hands clenching at his side. 'Okay, that did not go well' warred with 'I need a drink'. He stalked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge and chugged it. Sandburg was the most infuriating human being on the face of the planet. Why the hell did he have to go and fall in love with him? Jim felt like a total idiot.

Jim paced through the house irritably, back and forth, sucking on the beer bottle and muttering to himself. He could hear Blair moving around in his room, heard him slide under the covers and squirm around until he was comfortable. Oh, so he was just going to go to sleep? Just like that? Like their lives hadn't been turned upside down tonight? Jim's fingers cramped from gripping the bottle too tightly.

He could still smell Blair on himself and remember the feel of him, warm and eager beneath him. In spite of his mental turmoil, his body still thrummed happily with the afterglow. Jim threw himself down on the living room couch and let his head fall back, with a sigh. Damn it, Blair.

Jim listened to the rustling of Blair's movements as he turned over in bed. Blair's breathing was heavy and slow. Jim recognized the sound as Blair trying to calm himself with meditative breathing. 'Good,' he thought with savage satisfaction. At least he wasn't the only one upset here.

He sat there in the dark, staring out the picture window at the ocean with the fragile new moon shining down, and drank his beer. After a while, he went and got himself another one.

When that one was empty, he set it on the coffee table. His anger had cooled and he was feeling sad now. He'd gotten used to depending on Blair to be the voice of reason, the 'let's talk about it' guy. Things were pretty fucked up if he was the one who wanted to talk and Blair was stonewalling.

Blair loved him. Jim was sure of at least _that_ much. But Blair didn't think a relationship between them was workable. He'd made it clear that he thought Jim couldn't handle it. Jim had a lot of respect for Blair's intelligence so... was he right? Could Jim handle being in love with his male partner or would he crap out in the end?

Shit, he needed another beer if he was going to do this soul-searching stuff tonight. He grabbed another bottle out of the fridge and, instead of sitting back down on the couch, he walked outside and stood on the deck, staring out over the water and listening to the waves crashing up onto the beach. To his relief, the party two doors down had ended. The smell of the ocean on the wind reminded him of Blair and his cock twitched nostalgically. "You're not helping any," he said, looking down sternly.

So Blair thought Jim's lack of experience with men was an issue. Maybe he thought Jim was going to regret giving up women so much, he'd dump Blair. That he'd miss breasts and smooth skin and that sweet, wet cavern between soft thighs. Jim grinned and drank a toast to all the wonderful women he'd fucked over the years. Yeah, sure he'd miss that. Hell, Blair was bi -- he'd probably miss the ladies too -- but Jim expected to him to be faithful. He would make sure Blair understood he wouldn't tolerate cheating.

Jim smiled as he realized he was already thinking of them as a couple. Then he frowned as he thought about what else that meant. He took another long swallow of his beer and then, leaning against the deck railing, Jim Ellison took a good, hard look at himself and whether or not he loved Blair Sandburg enough to make this work.

* * *

Jim knocked quietly at the door and pushed it open. "Blair? You asleep?"

He went in and stood by the bed, looking down at Blair, who slowly rolled over and opened his eyes to stare up at Jim. The light coming in from the street was probably enough for Blair to see him. Sentinel sight showed him, as clear as day, that Blair's eyes were filled with exhaustion. He hadn't slept either.

"What is it, Jim?" Blair was whispering too.

"I think we need to talk. Or neither of us is getting any sleep tonight."

Blair sighed and shifted over to make room for Jim to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked at Jim and said, "So talk."

Blair wasn't going to make this easy for him. Okay, fair enough. Jim took a deep breath. "Blair... what happened tonight was a surprise to me, but I realize that I've been in love with you for while now without knowing it." He stopped for a moment to see if Blair wanted to jump in, but he just lay there, looking noncommittal. "I was looking at you and suddenly I just knew. Then, when we..." He gave Blair a sharp glance. "... _made love_ , it was amazing."

Jim reached out and picked up Blair's hand. He stared down at the strong, familiar hand and said to it, "I love you, Blair, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Blair's hand twitched and then lay passive in his grip. Reluctantly, Blair said, "Jim..."

"Blair," Jim interrupted. "Whether or not I have any prior experience with men isn't really the issue. Everyone has to have a first time and I know you wouldn't hold that against anyone. What's the real problem?"

Blair pulled his hand away and turned to look blindly out the window. Jim sat there waiting, admiring Blair's face in the glow from the streetlights. Just as he was about to ask again, Blair spoke, "Jim, you still think I'm going to bail on you like everyone else. Nothing I do seems to change that."

"I know you won't. You've proven how much you love me," Jim assured him.

Blair smiled sadly. "It's not enough without trust. You taught me that. Look, Jim, you've heard of the concept of 'projection', right? Where someone projects onto another person their own thoughts and motivations. Seems to me, you're the one that keeps trying to back out. At the first sign of trouble, you blame me and withdraw. That doesn't bode well for the future, man. Being lovers just adds that much more strain to our friendship. Add on top of that, the fact that you've never been with a guy before. What if you find out later on that you're not attracted to me any more?" Jim made a protesting noise and Blair said, fiercely, "You don't know, Jim. Some beautiful woman could come along and you'd rather be with her. It could happen. I just don't think this will work."

Jim shook his head firmly. "It has to work. Because I'm pretty sure this is it for me. You're it. There isn't going to be anyone else for me in this life. No one else will ever fit me like you do." Jim reached out to touch Blair's cheek. "Please, Blair. We have to try."

Longing flitted over Blair's face and for a moment he turned into Jim's caress, before pulling away. "And if we don't make it, Jim? What then?"

Jim shifted closer on the bed and gently but firmly pulled Blair up into an embrace, resting his cheek against the curly hair. With loving vehemence, Jim said, "What do you want from me, Blair? A guarantee that it'll work out and we'll always be together? I can't do that. I wish I could. I can guarantee I'll give it my best shot because I really want this and I think we have a good chance. We've lasted four years and yeah, some of it was bad. Really bad. But we're still here working through it and getting stronger than ever. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Blair laughed reluctantly. "That we're stuck with each other?"

Jim smiled into Blair's hair. "Yeah, Genius. We're stuck with each other. There's no point in fighting it." He nuzzled the ear in front of him, breathing just a little heavier, and pulled Blair in closer.

Blair resisted a moment and then relaxed into him. "I'm afraid of getting hurt, Jim."

"Me too. But... I can't _not_ do this, Blair. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Besides," he continued, his tone lighter, "I just found out firsthand that you're really hot in the sack."

Blair barked out a sharp laugh and twisted around in Jim's arms to look up into his face. Jim did his best to stand firm under that intense scrutiny. This moment was too important to retreat into his usual stoicism. He knew if he tried that, Blair was gone. Oh, he'd still be part of Jim's life, he wouldn't abandon him completely, but not like this. Not the way Jim now knew he needed more than anything. 'I mean it, Blair. Please see me. This is forever for me.' He watched the emotions play over Blair's face as he went from skepticism, to doubt, to sadness, to a kind of tired acceptance that made Jim's heart ache.

Wanting to wipe that resignation away, Jim bent down and kissed Blair hard, trying to show through his kiss all his feelings and his commitment to Blair. Blair was passive at first, just opening his mouth to Jim's exploration, and then slowly he responded until he was throwing all his love and hunger and desperation back at Jim. Jim tightened his arms around Blair and met him passion for passion. 'I hear you, Blair. I know you don't believe me, but it's going to be different from now on.'

When the kiss ended and Jim pulled back, Blair just sat there, eyes closed, face flushed and tight. Then he buried his face in Jim's shoulder, his hands clutching hard enough to leave bruises, and said fiercely, "I'm going to trust you here that we're really going to go for this. Don't let me down, okay? I don't think I could stand that."

Relief and triumph ripped through Jim. Blair was giving him a chance and he'd make damn sure he never regretted it. His hand went up to bury itself in Blair's hair. "That makes two of us, Blair."

The two men sat there quietly, gently rocking in their embrace. Jim held Blair, stroking his hair and murmuring quietly, until Blair's shaking had stopped and his breathing was easier. "You don't know how lucky you are that you agreed," Jim said, with a smile. "I had my long-term strategy all planned out. You were going to find out more than you ever wanted to know about the Ellison courtship rituals."

Blair's laugh was shaky and his eyes red-rimmed, but there was a dawning joy in his face as he looked up contentedly at Jim. "I _always_ wanted to know, Jim."

"I'll have to show you then," Jim promised solemnly. "You can do in-depth research and design experiments on sentinel mating habits." He grinned as Blair chuckled and then ruthlessly kissed him into silence

They eventually broke apart when Blair couldn't contain a jaw-splitting yawn. "Man, I'm beat. I wish I had the energy to fool around, but I just gotta get some sleep."

"I'm tired too," Jim grudgingly admitted, then leered. "But there's always tomorrow morning."

Blair snickered and pulled Jim down on to the bed with him. There was some confusion as they struggled to get Jim under the covers without letting go of each other. Jim rolled over on top of Blair and they kissed slow and easy, getting used to the feel of the other against their skin. Happy and half-hard, Jim watched affectionately as Blair's eyes kept closing despite his valiant effort to keep on kissing him. Finally, Jim simply said, "Get some sleep, Chief. I'll see you in the morning."

Blair curled up against Jim, resting his head on the broad chest, and fell instantly asleep. Jim stayed awake a while longer, enjoying the weight and warmth along the left side of his body. He smiled gently at his sleeping lover. He wasn't stupid enough to think that everything was resolved. It was going to take some time before Blair felt secure about this, but Jim had no doubts. Blair was going to be the one sleeping next to him every night for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Three weeks later:

Jim was pulling the groceries out of the cart, putting them on the conveyor belt and trying to remember if there was anything else they needed to restock the loft, when he heard Blair start laughing hysterically behind him in line. Turning, he found a gossip rag thrust under his nose. The headlines read: COLE CAUGHT CHEATING! CURRENT BOYFRIEND FUMING. The picture on the cover showed Cole Riccardi looking stunned and a sharp-faced, blond guy screaming into the camera. Beneath that were photos of...

Jim and Blair walking hand-in-hand and necking on the beach. The pictures were obviously taken on their last day at the beach house; they'd been hanging on each other like the love-struck fools they were. The paparazzi must have been thanking their lucky stars for the photo op.

Damn! Jim hurriedly calculated the chances that they'd go into work tomorrow and not have every cop in the building waving a copy and snickering while asking for "an autograph please, Mr. Riccardi" or "When's the wedding, Mr. Riccardi? Are we invited?" The odds were astronomically not in their favor.

Horrified, he stared at Blair, who grinned cheerfully, wagged his eyebrows, and said, "Oops. Busted."

Jim didn't miss the slight flicker of anxiety in Blair's eyes. It wasn't that he was ashamed of loving Blair or that he was worried about what people thought. Hell, he'd overhead enough over the years to know that half the precinct thought they were already involved. It was just... he'd wanted longer to get used to the idea himself. Now everyone was going to be looking at them sideways and thinking they _knew_ something about them when they didn't know jack. He looked at the pictures of him and Blair again and saw two guys head over heels for each other. Staring down at the joy in Blair's face, Jim realized that he'd pretty much do anything to keep that look alive, no matter how personally uncomfortable he was.

Jim met Blair's eyes, shrugged and grinned. Still looking at Blair, he handed the magazine to the cashier. "Might as well have some honeymoon pictures."

God, but Blair was beautiful when he smiled like that.


End file.
